


hold on tight

by Hymn



Series: Voltron: Legendary Defender [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Shiro, Established Relationship, M/M, Oops, PWP, Sleepy Sex, and praise, but early on, h o n e s t, i didn't mean for it to do that, it was supposed to be real low key, look i just felt like giving shiro nice things, look sometimes i can be nice to shiro honest, sort of intense sex, there's a lot of smoosh, this is some sugary sweet over the top nonsense okay, while we're both sleepy lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 07:56:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14930270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hymn/pseuds/Hymn
Summary: “‘m too tired to do anything,” Shiro warned, not quite certain he actually meant it.“You can just sleep,” Lance said, voice muffled by his shirt. “I don’t mind. I missed you, dude. I missedcuddles, and like, your smell, and the feel of having you in my arms, y’know?”Shiro wasn’t too tired to smile, at least, his heart picking up the pace, stomach fluttering with butterflies. “Yeah?”





	hold on tight

**Author's Note:**

> funny story, i was like 2k away from finishing my rough!sex not really healthy relationship shance porn when i was all _nuuuu i'm too tiiiiired_ so instead i, uh, wrote over 4k of the complete opposite??
> 
> i'm up way past my bed time at this point and also have written something like, uhm, 7k within the last 20hrs so i am A LITTLE WEARY which, alas, means that this fic has not even be _read over_ , let alone edited, i'm real sorry for any awful errors and the fact that it's probably trash anyway, but, eh, hope you like it???
> 
> 8/6 - finally added those edits i was threatening, hopefully it's better and not worse, but no promises lol

The whisper of his door sliding open and then shut was just enough to pull Shiro back from the edge of sleep. “Mrr?” he asked, face shoved into his pillow, arm at an awkward angle that -- _damn_ \-- was going to irritate him now that he was awake enough to notice. He’d have to move it. 

In a tick, though. Later. As soon as Shiro got up the energy to move at _all_.

“Sorry,” came a whisper that had, over the last few phoebs, grown more and more familiar in this setting. Shiro groaned in reply, and finally forced his arm to move, burying his face further into the pillow as Lance came and sat down gingerly on the bed beside him. Shiro had tensed up subconsciously at the intrusion to his quarters; now, with the safety of knowing it was Lance inside his space, he tried to relax back into his mattress, listening idly to the sound of Lance kicking off his sneakers, the rustle of his jeans against Shiro’s twisted sheets as he settled.

“-- s’late,” Shiro managed, “what’re you --”

A hand -- warm, with a broad palm and long, clever fingers -- swept from between his shoulder blades up to the back of his head, rubbing soothingly. “Sorry,” Lance said again, voice still whisper-quiet, hushed to suit the dark and stillness of the room. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“S’fine. ...What’re you doin’ here? S’late, m’tired...”

“Yeah,” a soft, huffing laugh, almost more air than noise, “I can tell. This is _adorable_ , you are adorable. Jeez, Shiro, so unfair.”

“Laaance,” Shiro whined, trying to burrow even deeper into his pillow. 

A soft, tickling touch to the top of one naked shoulder -- he twitched, surprised despite himself, and hummed a little in response, brows furrowing. Lance kissed his shoulder again, lingering this time. “I missed you,” he admitted, and Shiro could feel his smile curling against his skin. “I’ve barely seen you, lately. I just... I wanted to see you. That okay?”

“Uhn,” said Shiro, for lack of an otherwise coherent answer. 

Lance’s hand hadn’t stopped rubbing the back of Shiro’s skull, and honestly? It was all kinds of wonderful. The last several days had been tense with political navigation, Shiro at parade rest just behind where Allura and Lotor had been seated at the head of a table full of suspicious heads of state and varying levels of royalty. No one wanted to agree on _anything_ , everyone wanted to say _something_ , and nothing had been accomplished _at all_.

Or at least, that’s what it felt like.

And then, after, it was _more_ talking, Shiro trying to keep up with Lotor and Allura as they discussed what sort of tariffs would be permissible, which mines held the better value, whose borders were being infringed upon in this or that negotiation, and how much food did they need for tomorrow’s lunch?

It wasn’t like Shiro wasn’t _smart_ , or that he didn’t understand how governments and trade worked, or even how to handle an unruly crowd -- but hell if it was enjoyable. And this -- whole _planets_ , full of different peoples, stellar systems and galaxies divvied up into perplexing territories arguing over space trash and satellites and moon colonies -- was so much _more_ , so complicated, it was enough to make his head spin despite all the careful notes and attention he’d been paying leading up to the meeting, and --

“Shiro?”

He’d been so busy he’d hardly had a chance to do more than shove food mechanically into his mouth before falling dead asleep at the end of the day. 

Barely had a chance to see _Lance_. His...

Boyfriend?

God, that was still weird. Still _new_ , and strange, and exciting, still something precious and kind of private, awkward and little fumbling, but _good_. And yeah, _yeah_. Shiro had missed him too, had missed him a _lot_ , especially standing in that stupid, stuffy room, listening to those stupid, stuffy aliens and finding himself zoning out, thinking, _I bet Lance would think the Hal Ojag’s hat is the coolest thing ever, it’s so fucking weird._

Lance nuzzled where Shiro’s shoulder met his neck, murmuring, “Asleep already, huh?”

“Missed you -- hnn -- too,” he sighed, arching his neck to entice Lance’s fingers to move their blessed circular motion down into the tensed muscle alongside his spine. He groaned as Lance‘s thumb hit a knot, digging in. “Tired.”

“Ah,” said Lance, leaning back. His fingers trailed aimless lines down Shiro's skin. “I bet you’re tired. Standing around all day sure is exhausting, isn’t it? Me, on the other hand, why, I was with the Blades fighting off a rabid pack of Galran rebel forces! Saved a whole village on Yuz, y’know? A _bunch_ of girls asked for my autograph, and, well -- who was I to say no?”

Shiro tilted his face just enough to slit his eyes open -- everything was gray-blue shadows and dark shapes, barely visible -- and glare. 

“Mm,” agreed Lance, sounding just the slightest bit wicked. “I know -- I would have been the _worst_ if I’d denied my adoring fans. But don’t worry,” Shiro couldn’t see it, but that didn’t mean that the wink wasn’t happening, “I told them all I had a delectable honey at home.”

“...delectable honey,” said Shiro, only a little sleep-slurred, voice entirely flat.

“That’s right. _You_ , big guy. The most delectable of all the honeys in all the known _and_ unknown universe. Light of my life. Apple of mine eye. My moon and stars. My --”

“Oh, my gooood,” groaned Shiro, shoving his burning face back into the pillow. “Too tired f’r this.”

Lance laughed, sweeping his hand to Shiro’s shoulder and digging into the muscle there. His other hand mirrored it, and Shiro’s breath hitched at pain that quickly gave way to pleasure as Lance worked steadily at undoing the tension there. His hands were so _warm_ , and gentle, and --

Shiro shifted, a little uncertain. Sex was still... well, it was just something that Shiro still felt a little embarrassed asking for, or letting happen. It was -- weird. Maybe? How long Shiro had spent telling himself this wasn’t allowed, and he couldn’t have it, and to _stop_ , don’t think about it.

Like wanting it so much made actually _getting it_ unbearably awkward.

That didn't mean he didn't want it, though. That he didn't want Lance's hands to touch him not just in a sensual massage, but with specific, sexual _intent_ , that heat seeping into Shiro's flesh like a brand, determined to make him fall apart. But, ugh. He was so, so tired. 

“Get in be- _eed_ , ah!” he started to say, only for the last word to break into a moan when Lance’s thumbs swept along the muscle just beneath his shoulder blades. 

Lance chuckled, and the sound of it -- the register, the heat -- made Shiro’s muscles tighten, abdomen pulling taut. He shivered. 

“Can’t resist an order from my fearless leader,” Lance teased, removing his hands only after a lingering caress all the way down Shiro’s spine that pushed the sheet down to pool right above the swell of his ass. “Especially not one like _that_. Get in bed, he says. Gladly, I say! Just let me --” he grunted, shucking off his jeans. 

“‘m too tired to do anything,” Shiro warned, not at all certain he actually meant it.

“You can just sleep,” Lance said, voice muffled by his shirt. “I don’t mind. I missed you, dude. I missed _cuddles_ , and like, your smell, and the feel of having you in my arms, y’know?”

Shiro wasn’t too tired to smile, at least. His heart picked up the pace, stomach fluttering with butterflies. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah. But, well --” the bed dipped, and Lance crawled over him to get to the far side where there was space. He settled down next to him, close enough that Shiro could feel the heat of him there, couldn’t help but wonder sleepily if he’d shed his boxers, too, if he was naked, maybe. The thought was enough to make Shiro want to squirm.

Lance’s hand came back, rough and calloused, tripping up along the dip of his spine. His thumb rubbed against the edge of a knot of scars, tempting. Shiro couldn’t help the little puff of noise he made in response.

“-- if you _wanted_ ,” Lance continued, carefully. “I could, ah. Do all of the work? I mean, maybe it’s just me, but seems like you deserve a reward. I know _I_ deserve a reward, and I honestly can't think of one I'd want more than you. So! It’s a win-win, right? Plus, it'll give you something nice to think about tomorrow when you’re bored out of your mind.”

“...tha’s not the kinda thing,” Shiro paused to clear his throat, embarrassed, “I wanna be thinkin’ ‘bout in public, Lance.”

“No?”

“ _No_ ,” Shiro laughed, stretching. All this talking and hinting and touching had been more than enough to keep him from falling back asleep. He was waking up, just a little, just enough; but he still felt exhausted. Too tired to make any kind of effort. More relaxed than he had been, though, and comfier for it, too. Lance's offer was all too tempting to pass up, especially when Shiro was already flushed with want from the slow, rough drag of Lance's hands. Decided, Shiro turned his head to face Lance’s new position, and hummed thoughtfully. “Mmkay, you c’n -- sure.”

“...Yeah?”

“Mm. Jus’ don’t make me do anythin’,” Shiro sighed, arching his hips just a little because, ah, tired or not he was into this -- into Lance. His cock was filling just at the anticipation of Lance touching him; doing -- other things to him. 

Lance made a lovely noise, back in his throat and full of banked hunger. “Oh, oh wow, that --” his hand stroked against Shiro’s hip, skated along the dimples in his back, near his ass. “-- do that again, that was so pretty.”

Shiro did, feeling almost shy -- but also warm, and lazy, and powerful. 

“Oh. Shiro,” Lance said, voice gruff and reverent. “The things I want to do to you.”

And, okay. Maybe -- _maybe_ \-- there was a part of him that was also really into _this_ in particular; into letting Lance take care of him and giving up control, not having to worry about what he was allowed, what he should be ashamed of, whether he was doing this _right_ or not. He could feel the heat in his face, and couldn't help the way his hips twisted again, lifting, as arousal stroked its way through him. 

Lance’s breath hitched, and the pads of his fingers dragged down beneath the sheet, tracing the curve of the nearest cheek down to the crease of Shiro’s thigh. There, he hesitated, and Shiro’s focus -- what there was of it, still addled and soft and strange with weariness -- pulled tight around that warm touch settled against such a vulnerable, exposed part of him. 

“Ohhh, naked already?"

Lance sounded breathless, awed. Shiro squirmed just slightly, not wanting to admit that he usually slept naked -- except then Lance had started to spend the night, and Shiro had been nervous, hyper-aware, and begun to wear his briefs in bed. But he hadn’t been thinking about it tonight, had just stripped down and climbed into bed. 

He was glad, now, that he had. So, so glad. Biting his lip on any possible response -- _oops? my bad? do you like it?_ \-- Shiro fought to hold still, waiting to see what Lance would do next, how he would respond.

Leaning in close, chest shifting against Shiro’s shoulder, Lance kissed Shiro’s temple and whispered, intimate and hushed, “You’re _amazing_ , Takashi. Just relax, let me take care of you, hm?”

Shiro's breath left him in a shuddery exhale, skin tightening and flushing all at once. 

_Yes_ , he thought. _Yes, that -- exactly._

Slow, gentle, Lance moved over him. Leaned in and pressed warm, damp kisses against his skin, tracing his tongue in careful lines against the sensitive skin next to his scar tissue. Swept his knuckles in sweet, tender sweeps along his sides, the back of his bicep. Touches that felt almost innocent, that felt -- sincere.

And so, _so_ damned nice. 

Shivery and warm, lazy and loving; Lance touched him like Shiro was precious, something to be admired and cherished, and it had heat pooling in his gut, tugging between his legs. Had Shiro’s heart filling, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips even as a flush burned down the back of his neck, across his chest; as his breathing quickened and halted in turn.

God, but Lance was good with his hands and mouth. Attentive, devoted, clever -- Shiro had wondered before they’d ever started... dating, he guessed. _Being_ together. Had wondered how that wicked, mobile mouth and those ever-moving hands might translate into intimacy, and --

Well, he wasn’t disappointed, that was for sure.

He moaned, guttural and low, when Lance’s grip found his hip and tugged him up, let his erection spring free from where it’d been caught against his thigh and the bed. He settled onto his knees, arms still beneath his pillow, chest against the mattress. God, Shiro was glad the lights were off; he didn't know if he could have handled Lance seeing him like this. Didn't know if he could handle how much he _wanted_ Lance to see him like this. 

“There you go,” Lance murmured, voice honey-thick. “Just like that, Takashi. I’mma take real good care of you, promise. Just relax, and enjoy the magical ministrations of Loverboy Lance...”

Shiro snorted, then made a strangled noise when Lance’s palm slid -- hot and heady -- to an ass cheek, squeezing gently and also encouraging him to press his hips back down. Gentle, inexorable pressure to bring him back down onto his belly, legs stretched out, and --

Oh, oh _fuck_ \--

“Yeah,” Lance encouraged. “Just like that, baby.”

His hips rocked, the sheets smooth against his erection; just enough friction to lick fire into him. He was surprised to realize he was shaking. Just a little, a barely-there tremble. But it was -- well, Lance had touched him so carefully, so perfectly -- had pressed desire into his skin in slow, smoldering waves, and --

Letting go, relaxing; allowing Lance to do this to him -- to make love to him -- allowing himself to just enjoy it, it -- it was a little overwhelming, really. That amount of trust. That willingness to let go and be passive, to just accept the attention, to not deflect. And he wanted it right now, yeah, but that didn't make it _easy_ ; didn't mean that Shiro wasn't going to shake apart from the force of it.

“You okay?”

Shiro had to clear his voice to respond. “Ye -- aah, ha. Yes. I’m, hm. G-great.”

Lanced laughed gently, tracing one teasing finger between his cheeks. Skated teasingly across sensitive skin, brushing against intimate places. Almost, but not quite, rubbing against his rim. Shiro tensed and untensed, flexed his hips, held his breath without meaning to as he waited. 

“Want me to stop?”

“ _No_ ,” Shiro huffed, gripping the edges of the pillow tightly. “Now that you’ve -- mmm -- started, you had best -- ahh! -- best _finish_.”

“You’re _sure_ you don’t want to go back to sleep?”

Groaning, Shiro pushed his face into his pillow, shoulders shaking now with laughter. Arousal mixed with amusement and fondness and lit within him, an expansion of soft and happy warmth that could anchor him even when he felt like he might fly apart if Lance didn’t _do_ something, anything, to ease the ache throbbing through him. 

And then, Lance’s finger skated back again, pressing against the skin of his perineum and, ah! That --

“Haa, _Lance_ , don’t just --”

A click of a bottle opening; the faint squelch of lube being squeezed out. Shiro felt dizzy -- from exhaustion, from sensation, from emotion -- and happy, and horny, and like _laughing_ , because, “Did you come _prepared?_ Pretty certain of yourse -- oh _fuck_.”

“Just hopeful,” Lance said, tone warm. 

He nuzzled into Shiro’s side, plastered against him -- skin to skin, hot and soft and comforting. His finger was rubbing lube against Shiro’s rim, tantalizing, too-soft touches that were making Shiro’s nerves jump with the anticipation of pleasure, the burn of entrance. Squeezing his eyes shut, Shiro groaned. 

The heat in his skin just kept burning brighter; every touch felt like a shock that made him startle. He didn’t know if the darkness or the late hour or his earlier frustrations made everything seem so heightened -- or if it was just the way that Lance was touching him right now, mouth pressed against the back of his neck, sucking _hard_ , so that Shiro felt it jolting through him, sharp and bright and jangling along his nerves. 

“ _Lance_ ,” he very nearly begged.

But those fingers just kept teasing him, playing at his entrance; Lance moved his mouth to a new place with a scrape of teeth and a quick, soothing murmur too low for Shiro to make out above the rising tide of his blood rushing in his ears. For a moment, he floated. Became little more than the pleasure of waiting for the next touch, for the next act -- melting and coiling tight all at once, until Shiro was exhaling in little panting breaths, thighs trembling as Lance pushed against his knee to spread him a little more open. 

Shiro choked on a noise, delirious at the vulnerability here, the feeling of being on display coming back no matter that the lights were still off, that it was too dark to even _see_ ; it didn’t matter, it was still a sensation that ripped right through him and left him reeling.

His heart was beating so _fast_ , and he couldn’t help but try and rock his hips more firmly into the mattress to get some pressure against his dick, god, he was so hard, now, he --

“ _Lance_ ,” he managed to say, voice hoarse. “Lance, c’ _mon_ , I want it.”

“Jesus,” came Lance’s whisper, threaded through with some emotion that trembled bright and touched Shiro to the core. “Yes. Okay, god, you’re -- Takashi,” he rambled, “Takashi, Takashi, you -- I can’t even believe how lucky I am, I can’t.”

The first finger breached him -- pressure, a slight burn that was odd but wanted -- and Shiro sucked in his breath, sharp, going still. Then he groaned, all at once going slack as Lance slid his finger out carefully just to press into him again, and -- god, that was -- the slow drag in and out, the feeling of clenching around him helplessly, it was -- good, so good, Shiro couldn’t help but hitch his hips up a little, wanting more.

“You’re all right?” Lance asked.

Shiro twitched, shivering when Lance stopped moving his hand with his knuckles pressed up tight against him, rubbing the pad of his finger carefully against his walls and oh, oh, oh _fuck_ that -- he --

“I’m sorry,” Lance quipped, delighted. “Was that supposed to be a word?”

“Don’t _stop_ ,” Shiro managed a little more coherently, second try. “I’m f-fine, I -- Stop teasing, Lance. I -- ha aah.”

Then it was just -- sensation, and Shiro adrift in it. One finger became two -- the burn flared, then faded, eased into pleasure, spiked into ecstacy every time Lance’s fingers rubbed firmly against his prostate, pushing out cries from Shiro’s lips that he hardly heard, his heart beating so loud in his ears, his breath tight in his lungs. 

Tighter and tighter, higher and higher, Lance twisted him up in pleasure, his mouth sucking kisses against his hips, his back, free hand flat and firm and grounding against Shiro’s side from where he’d scooted down the bed to have a better angle. 

“So good,” he muttered, vague and nonsensical, as if Lance wasn’t even aware he was running his mouth, “you’re -- wow, just. Amazing, you feel amazing. God, I can’t even -- how are you _real_ , how am I so lucky? I -- I’m going to scissor you now, okay? Can I --”

“ _Yes_ ,” Shiro ordered, pressing his forehead into the knuckles of his human hand, arching his spine. 

By the time Lance was carefully spreading three fingers inside of him, opening him up almost too wide, Shiro could barely breathe. He was panting, shaking, twisting in the sheets and desperate for -- for _something_. More, or less, relief or the next height of pleasure, _fuck_ , he hardly knew, just knew his erection was throbbing, leaking, he was so fucking _hard_ , and he had never known it could be like this, hadn’t guessed he’d ever have this, or want this, but Lance --

 _Lance_ , he --

“Love you,” he murmured into Shiro’s skin, sounding drugged. “God, just _listen_ to you. You -- I -- I just -- love you so _much_ , so glad I can make you feel good, so, fuck, so fucking glad, Takashi, I want you so much, all the time, I --”

Shiro choked on a sound -- moan, or whine, or plea -- and rolled his shoulders, arched his back, twisted his hips. Begging without words, too far gone to care if he should feel embarrassed at his own need; too far into pleasure and safety and Lance’s assurance and desire to give a fuck for anything but how much he wanted this, how much he wanted to feel Lance inside of him, as close as he could get.

“Lance,” he whispered, panting. “Lance, Lance, La -- _aahn_.”

The feeling of being empty -- Lance’s fingers pulling gingerly out of him -- was almost as intense as the feeling of being _full_. It left Shiro shuddering, impatient. An itch at the base of his spine, heat and hunger a golden blaze in his belly, throbbing in his dick. 

“You good?” Lance asked, and Shiro tuned in to hear the rip of a condom wrapper, the stutter of Lance’s breath as he rolled it on. “Is this -- okay? You want --”

“If you don’t get in me right now,” Shiro threatened, “I’ll --”

Fuck, he did not have an appropriate threat. His brain wasn’t _working_ , damn it.

Didn’t need it, though, thankfully, because then Lance was pulling at Shiro’s hip, rolling him onto his side so he could press up behind him. He pushed Shiro’s leg up, spreading him, and Shiro shivered, then jerked at the touch of Lance’s erection against his hole, nudging. _God_ , that would never stop being -- being something, would it? Shiro’s heart fluttered, feeling him press gingerly against him, and he couldn’t stop the half-pained hitch in his chest as Lance pushed _in_ , entering him, the flared head so much bigger than his fingers, and -- 

“ _Fuuck_ ,” Shiro wheezed.

Lance stopped, breathing harshly against the back of Shiro’s shoulder. 

He’d looped his arm under Shiro’s knee, anchoring his hand against Shiro’s chest and holding him tightly like that. The heel of his palm brushed against the edge of his nipple, and Shiro shivered, body tightening, and, _oh_.

“Gng.” Lance sounded physically pained, which would have been funny if Shiro had any thought left in him not already taken up by pleasure. “God, you... fuck, T’kashi. Can I -- Can I move?”

“A minute,” Shiro whispered, eyes clenched shut.

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Lance babbled, lips moving in a slick, dragging glide against Shiro’s shoulder. “All the -- _unh_ \-- minutes you need, take a whole -- whole _varga_ , god, how are you so _tight_ , this -- you feel beautiful, so beautiful, ohhh my god.”

Moaning, Shiro tipped his head back, arching his body in a way that was all release, glorying in the words falling like wildfire from Lance’s mouth; glorying in the closeness, the feeling of being embraced like this, held and loved, desired, he -- his breath heaved, and he _wanted_ , fuck but Shiro wanted it, wanted all of it. Wanted Lance inside him deep as he could go.

“Now,” he whined, hooking clumsy fingers around Lance’s wrist across his chest, flexing them helplessly. “ _Now_ , Lance.”

“D-don’t,” Lance gritted out, circling his hips slowly for an agonizing, jaw-slackening moment, “have to tell me twice, _unh_.”

Careful, Lance eased into him -- a little awkward in this position, but _god_ , Shiro could feel him each inch of him pressing him open bit by bit, filling him up. He felt so _big_ , so much bigger than he actually was, felt like the whole world, too much, _too much_. Shiro was going to come undone from it. 

“ _Please_ ,” he gasped, though he didn’t know if he wanted more or less, to come already or to ride this out as long as physically possible. He just knew he _wanted_ , wanted all of it, everything that Lance could give him.

“-- got you, babe, got, haa -- _ha_ \-- got you, love, I.” Lance’s words cut off on a sharp inhale, then started again, fast and delirious, rambling. “ _Shit_ , if you keep squeezing me like -- ohhh -- jesus, Shiro, I d-don’t actually know how long I’m -- I’m gonna la--aast, ah!”

Shiro moaned at that, shifting, and -- ah, _yes_ , there! -- the change in angle was -- fuck, so good, it -- deep, and full, Lance in him to the hilt fucking him in shallow, needy little thrusts that dragged so _sweet_ , pressing him open again and again, glancing against his prostate _just_ so, and --

He couldn’t -- he wouldn’t _last_ \-- he needed, fuck, needed to come so badly, he --

“Can you come? Like this? Without -- ohh oh -- w-without me touching your -- _ah_!” Lance pressed his mouth against Shiro’s skin, sucking hard, and Shiro shuddered, just as hard, head thrashing back and forth in a tight shake of denial because he couldn’t, and he needed to, needed to come so badly, and -- he was making such a racket, such _noise_ , and Shiro felt the fire in his belly heat up, flare out, dick twitching.

He managed, somehow, to gasp out, “ _Touch me_.”

Lance dropped his hand from Shiro’s chest, dragging his palm down, down, _down_ , and then his fingers were on his length, pressure, a tight grip tugging at him and Shiro was seeing _stars_ , he --

“Yes, yes,” Lance moaned, hips bucking, grinding into him and sending little skittering shock waves through Shiro, bright points in the overwhelming surge of his orgasm, this -- the _fuck_ , how was this so intense, _how_.

When Lance followed him, Shiro barely noticed. There was a roaring in his ears; his limbs were tingling, heart racing. His skin was damp with sweat and his muscles were jumping, leg trembling as his knee came down. He made a noise in his throat, feeling Lance hot and thick inside him anew, making space. 

He didn’t -- _How_ was he meant to recover from sex like that, exactly?

For a long moment he just held still, chasing after the lingering sensations, trying to catch his breath. He didn’t want it to end, but he knew it would. His back was already twinging from the position, but...

Yeah, he decided. Totally worth it.

Huffing, Shiro raised his hand to rub shakily over his face. Lance was breathing hard at his back, still, a heavy weight. Shiro could feel the _thump thump thump_ of his rapid heart against him, like it was trying to leap out and take up residence in Shiro’s body, instead. 

“You okay back there?” he croaked out. 

“Mmrrh.”

Laughing helplessly, Shiro just laid there, relaxing in slow, leisurely increments. The sweat slicking his skin began to cool, and the rim of his hole felt _tender_ , now, rather than pleasurable, and there was -- ugh -- jizz on the sheets, and -- _damn it._

“I was _sleeping_ ,” Shiro mourned. “I was _tired_. I have a long day tomorrow, and now I’m going to --” he cut off, abruptly, cheeks heating. 

Behind him, Lance finally stirred. Shiro made a quiet noise of complaint as he slid his softening cock carefully free and rolled onto his back to tug off the condom. “And now,” Lance hummed, sounding about as exhausted as Shiro had felt upon awakening, “You’re gonna spend all day remembering _exactly_ what sort of fun things we got up to, hm?”

Shiro jerked, turning to look incredulously at Lance over his shoulder. He was too sated to move much, and the room was still too dark to see. It was a trial to try and scrunch his face up into a scowl but somehow he managed, because -- “Did you do this _on purpose_? What the _hell_ , Lance.”

“Noooo, no no no,” Lance said, voice choked with sleepy laughter -- with affection that soothed Shiro’s irritation immediately. “I did _not_. I just -- I told you. I missed you. You’re -- you’re my _boyfriend_. I want to spend time with you. To -- To touch you and make love to you. I like it when I can drive you wild, you know. And it _sucks_ when I can’t.”

Shiro could feel his face burning; the scowl had been replaced with a dopey smile, but Lance couldn’t see it. 

“...Hmph,” he allowed. “Well, that’s -- good.”

Lance snickered. “ _Just_ good, huh? I’ll have to try harder, next time. Really get you screaming --”

Well, _that_ wasn’t going to help with the blushing problem, now was it?

“Stop that," he scolded, but Lance just hummed, thoughtful, so Shiro said, “It was better than good and you know it."

“Ooohh, well isn’t _that_ high praise.” Shiro could hear the grin in his voice, familiar and beloved. He pitched his voice to sound like an announcer, over the top as always. “Alert the tabloids -- Takashi Shirogane’s boyfriend performs wonders in bed -- rocks his world! -- while Takashi Shirogane only _grudgingly_ admits it was a liiiittle better than acceptable --”

Shiro started laughing, helpless, and flopped around without any grace until he was flat on his stomach, but thankfully clear of the wet spot. It left him half-draped across Lance, and almost as soon as Lance’s arm came up over his back, fingers stroking along his spine while he nuzzled his nose into Shiro’s hair, Shiro realized he was right back on the cusp of sleep.

But _better_ , this time; a good kind of worn out and exhausted. He couldn’t help the smile quirking his lips. 

It... it was weird, maybe, but Shiro hadn’t let himself realize just how _much_ he’d missed this -- this closeness. This security and naked affection with the man he -- he _loved_ , if he was being perfectly honest. More than anything, his heart felt light, content. He wanted to fall asleep tangled in Lance; to wake up exactly the same.

“Mm, ‘m glad you came over,” Shiro admitted, nuzzling closer. “Needed this. Needed you.”

“Goodness," Lance sighed, trying for casual but missing the mark and going straight into gooey warmth and toe-curling glee. “Way to get romantic, Shiro.”

Shiro chuckled. “What can I say? You bring out the best in me.”

Lance pressed a kiss to his temple. Shiro hummed, had just enough energy left to spare half a thought as to what, exactly, Lance had done with the lube and condom before deciding he was actually way too tired to care about it, or the slick mess between his legs. He felt too good to worry about how much he’d regret the mess when he woke up; he could take care of it in the morning. Sleep was calling him, and he was more than happy to answer.

And then, because his boyfriend was an actual shit, Lance said, slurring slightly with sleepiness, but still brightly teasing -- “I mean. To further answer your earlier question: the fact that I get to imagine you squirming and thinking ‘bout me fucking you while you’re up in front of all those stuffy officials is just a _bonus_ , see.”

Shiro sucked in a startled breath, appalled as he remebered that, yes, he was definitely going to be thinking about that tomorrow. It was probably going to be _all_ he could think about, actually.

“...Oh, m’god. You’re _impossible_. And sooo lucky ’m too tired to take revenge,” Shiro breathed incredulously; he wanted to keep being appalled, but mostly he just felt easy, happy, so damn _warm_. “I know you have a meeting with Kolivan next week, just wait an’ see what I,” he paused to yawn, “what I do to you _then_.”

Snickering, Lance groped blearily for the sheets down by their feet, making a triumphant noise when he managed to snag it with his toe and kick it up high enough to catch it in his hand and tuck it up, over Shiro’s shoulder. 

“I _mean_ it, Lance,” Shiro mumbled, drifting.

“Mmhmm,” Lance murmured, sounding just as happy as Shiro felt. “Lookin’ forward to it, belieeeve me.”

 _Good_ , Shiro thought, too sleepy for actual words. He was just aware enough to feel Lance pull his arm closer, tighter, sigh sweet and pleased and press a final, lingering kiss to his hair. Shiro fell asleep, still smiling.


End file.
